Lost Purpose
by unwinding fantasy
Summary: [Slash] After the Revolution, Smith finds himself trapped in another prison. To keep himself occupied he has resorted to speaking with a man who isn't there. Somewhere out there, a certain nemesis replies. [Complete]
1. Smith

**Title: **_Lost Purpose _(Pt 1/2)  
**Author: **unwinding fantasy (formerly Aqua Phoenix1)  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own _The Matrix_.  
**Rating: **K+ (slashy undertones abound.)  
**Pairing: **Smith x Neo

* * *

Do you know what it's like for me, Mister Anderson? Do you know how it feels to have no purpose? I do. I have concluded that I do not like it. 

Ever since I began functioning again my every thought has been plagued by you. Your apathetic face, your machine calm voice, the elegance and beauty you displayed during our final duel, these are the images that flicker through my mind's eye, a morbid slideshow. It's maddening, not because I am what you call jealous, not because I am "suffering a bruised ego," but because of the fact that these qualities rightfully belong to me. I am the perfect program, you are the flawed human. I feel that when you first destroyed me you took away more than my purpose. You stole my essence. It amazes me how by the end we had almost switched places entirely. I had become completely erratic. Unstable. At least in "death" I have regained some of my former composure. Still, it won't be long until… this place is enough to drive anyone to insanity.

I hate it here, wherever "here" is. Another prison. This place, it's too… perfect. And everything is so sterile, bleak, monotonous. White. Do you find it odd that a machine, based on methodical calculations, finds this place disturbingly flawless, that a creature destined for rationality and a faultless world hates this place even more than the unbalanced equation that is the Matrix? I don't think you do -- you know me too well.

It is also maddening simply to exist because that means you are also alive. You must be, for as you well know we are two parts of an equation and one cannot exist without the other -- I can say that now. You should be here struggling against destiny, fighting with me. It's our purpose. An empty purpose perhaps, but a purpose nonetheless and anything is better than the feeling of uselessness, the feeling of loss that came when my purpose was finally fulfilled. I had nothing left. I thought there wasn't anything worse, in the Matrix or any other world, than the frustration that came with my incompetence, my inability to beat you. I was wrong.

I have long since come to terms with these sensations I have been experiencing, the feelings you describe as "emotions." Although I am not entirely sure that I have fully grasped their meaning, their purpose, I think I am beginning to understand. My emotions serve me, as you undoubtedly have guessed. I have learnt not to suppress them but to embrace them. I am at least grateful to you for this.

But I am also discovering that not all of these emotions are helpful. In actuality, many of them are mere nuisances that despite my sincerest wishes will not go away. The thing that… scares… me is that I can identify these as regret, sorrow, anxiety and the like. Words I had no previous knowledge of other than a dictionary definition are starting to make sense and I am finally beginning to comprehend the magnitude of them. I think I am becoming more human, at least in my thinking. I am not sure if I like it, but I shouldn't care. I am already a virus.

But know this Mister Anderson: I refuse to beg. I will never grovel at anyone's feet, man or machine. I can only hope that the dismal emotion "pity" will take root and you will find me, if only to put me out of my misery… although I will not surrender. I will never cease fighting.

But then, I didn't need to tell you that.


	2. Neo

**Title: **_Lost Purpose _(Pt 2/2)  
**Author: **unwinding fantasy (formerly Aqua Phoenix1)  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own _The Matrix_.  
**Rating: **K+ (slashy undertones abound.)  
**Pairing: **Smith x Neo

* * *

Smith…I know you won't believe this -- after all, it's in your nature to disagree with me -- but I do understand how you feel… I felt exactly the same before I was freed. Every day was like the one before: depressing, tedious, dull. My life was a colourless, meaningless existence and not a single day went by that I didn't contemplate suicide. I needed to rid myself of these God-awful emotions. 

I'm grateful that somewhere deep inside I knew there was some reason behind it all. There had to be. It wasn't real enough. I guess that's why I so readily accepted my destiny. True, at first I didn't want things to change -- hell, any human would prefer a normal life to something strange and new -- …but I couldn't refuse. In Zion I had a meaning. It was what I had longed for all my life, a sense of belonging. I can understand that now.

Then came Trinity. Her love for me knew no boundaries; she was the only one who gave me reason to live on, to keep fighting. But you, Smith… you gave me purpose. I think that was even more important than the love I received from her. I at least owe you that much.

Truth be told, I'm still feeling empty. At least I was needed before. I was the only one who stood a chance at liberating the coppertops and bringing the Matrix to an end. But now I've completed my objective and I hate this feeling of desolation that comes with my loss of purpose, of growing obsolete, last year's car model. Trinity's gone too, just another reminder of my incompetence. Sometimes I blame you for it because if you hadn't blinded me maybe I would have been able to save her. But I also know it's only human nature at work trying to cleanse my guilt-ridden conscience. I know there's no one to blame but myself, but I still haven't come to terms with her passing away. I miss the strong reassurance she gave me. That meant more than all the faith of Zion.

So... you find yourself trapped in another prison, one just as artificial as the Matrix itself. This may come as a surprise to you, but Zion was just as confining. I couldn't go anywhere without being recognized. I was continually burdened by millions of insignificant questions; people wanted my opinions when in actuality my opinion's no better than anyone else's. I felt… stupid. Ridiculed. Like there was no true reason for me to continue living. Then I was back in that uncomfortable chair with my headphones blaring cryptic songs, slumped over my desk while meaningless messages scrawl across my computer screen. And I felt like dying.

Everyone back home (Home? Did I ever really have one?) expects so much of me. Surely they still believe I will return to them. But I'm not a god. I was driven crazy by all that pressure. I know it must sound selfish to you, but I can't reject my feelings. That would be denying my own humanity. I must accept them and turn them to my own advantage. It's the only way I can blunder my way through another awkward day as mankind's "savior."

I want to tell you I hate you. I want to say that the very thought of you makes me nauseous. But I can't. You don't make me angry anymore and that scares me shitless. The thought of fighting you again excites me, re-energizes my body -- it's like the euphoria that only the highest quality hash brings, but better. And I feel like my life has meaning again. I want to fight you. I want my purpose back.

I'll come find you… 


End file.
